The three men stood in the doorway, watching Jodi return on foot, looking like he’d been in a fight.
“What happened to you?”
“Where’s your horse?”
“It was the bull, wasn’t it?”
“Harmless and docile, my ass! If I’d of had my pistol, I’d of shot that maniacal son-of-a-bitch!” Jodi stated, “It came charging out of nowhere, knocked me outta my saddle, chased off my mount to god-knows-where, rolled me in the dirt three times, before treeing me for several hours.”
“He’s usually peaceable,” the cook chuckled, “but it’s breeding season.”
“Now you say!” Jodi responded while glaring at him.